


Mortality

by kunstvogel



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, Drama & Romance, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multiple Sclerosis, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-07 23:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13445232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunstvogel/pseuds/kunstvogel
Summary: For as long as he can remember, Dick’s life has been a struggle to maintain his own fragile health. At 25 years old, he’s found the perfect balance - but he’s missing just one thing. When the son of the wealthy Stanhope Nixon visits Lancaster, they meet by chance and change the course of Dick’s life forever.





	1. A Familiar Routine

As the morning sun creeps up along the eastern Pennsylvania sky, it casts warm yellow rays through the expanses of forest and rolling green hills. Further away, there are long, flat patches of corn, separated by narrow roads travelling in endless straight lines. The roads, paved with concrete bleached nearly white from exposure and decades of traffic, bear little activity at this early hour.

In place of the cars and farm vehicles which will eventually traverse these paths, there is a lone figure who treads at a leisurely pace. The sunlight caresses his damp hair, highlighting it with the vibrant golden hues of September foliage. He is tall and wiry, with pale freckled skin and eyes as clear blue as the sky soon will be. His lean figure is clothed only in swim trunks and a white T-shirt made translucent with water, and there is a fluffy towel curled around his narrow shoulders.

He comes to an intersection and turns off onto another road. A red barn and large white farmhouse come into view. With a crooked smile playing on his thin lips, he bounds up the wooden porch stairs and swings the screen door open.

“I’m home, Ma!” He toes off his mesh water shoes, listening to the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen, then strides over to investigate. Edith Winters looks up from her task of scrambling eggs and smiles at him. Her face is lined with age and stress, but her eyes are as bright as ever.

“Good morning, Dick. Did you have a nice swim?”

“Yes, Ma. I’m going to go shower now.” He kisses her cheek, peeking over her shoulder at breakfast. Edith shoos him away with a gesture, and he abides, trotting up the stairs and into the bathroom. He showers economically, towels off, and picks out his clothes.

Dick fumbles with the buttons of a flannel shirt, frowning down at his chest as his shaky fingers start to tingle. With a sigh he shrugs out of the shirt and grabs another that is free of buttons, tugging it over his head. Dick combs his ginger hair back and makes his way down to the kitchen again, where a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon waits beside a glass of milk. Edith has a syringe in her hand; she sucks the liquid out of a small medical vial and flicks the air bubbles out before holding it out for Dick to take.

“Thanks.” Dick accepts the syringe. Edith smiles tightly, watching critically as he tugs his pants down a bit and pushes the needle into the soft skin beside his hip. His mother is already sticking a Band-Aid over the spot before he’s set the syringe back on the table.

“Ma,” he sighs. “I can do it myself.”

“Nuh-uh,” Edith argues. “You’re my only son and as long as you live in my house, I get to coddle you as much as I please. Now eat your breakfast.”

Dick obliges, sitting down and tucking into his meal as Edith tosses out the syringe. She sits beside him with her own meal, and they eat in a companionable silence. Thoughts dance behind their blue eyes, but neither feels the urge to vocalize them. The Winters family is curious like that; they are all cautiously guarded with their personal thoughts and feelings, careful to pick what they verbalize.

Once the pair have finished their meal, they work in unison to wash and dry the dishes, just like every other morning. After the task is completed, Dick finds he has an hour to spare before he has to go to work. Edith waves good-bye as she heads out to help his father out on the farm, and Dick decides to read a book. He plucks one off the shelf, dumps himself into the rocking chair on the porch, and dives in.

♠

Dick Winters was born healthy, with ruddy cheeks and bright, intelligent eyes. He’d been strong and independent almost from the start; he learned quickly and rarely made the same mistake twice. Some of the mothers in Lancaster called him a miracle or a prodigy; others recognized that his looks and personality were analogous to that of his father.

Whatever the case, he was the ideal child - smart, disciplined, and respectful, if a bit stubborn. He often took the role of the leader while playing with the other children, and he played fair and discouraged the bossy kids and the bullies. But for all of his virtues in personality and behavior, Dick had a fatal flaw in his physicality. While he had been born healthy and lived the first five years of his life without many issues, somewhere in his sixth year of life his health began to falter.

Dick was by no means a fussy child. As such, it came as a surprise when he began to throw fits, crying and growing angry at turns. He seemed not to listen or comprehend anything when he was like this, and it was nearly impossible to calm him down. Oftentimes the only reason he’d stopped was because he’d exhausted himself to the point of collapse.

Edith and Richard took little Dick to all the child therapists and counselors they could, but nobody could figure out what had the boy so wound up. Direct confrontation yielded little result; Dick was tight-lipped or perhaps just as perplexed as everyone else by his own behavior. It wasn’t long after the meltdowns started that Dick began to fall ill; he picked up nearly every sickness from school and seemed to wilt, gradually losing his coordination and muscle strength. He grew irritable in the summers and loathed heat of any kind.

When Dick was seven years old - still in second grade due to his regressive behavior - it all came together. While playing soccer outside in the muggy days of August, Dick collapsed halfway through the game and didn’t wake up. He was rushed to the hospital, where Edith and Richard explained his unusual behavior and declining health to the harried doctors.

Dick was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.

The boy then spent a week in the hospital as the doctors worked to stabilize him and inform his family of what to expect. Edith and Richard were sent home with a folder of papers listing symptoms and treatment plans which brought sudden clarity to Dick’s changed demeanor. Both were relieved to learn that his condition was not fatal, but it was disheartening to know that he would never be free of the symptoms.

“Given the proper diet, exercise and medication, we may be able to relieve his symptoms considerably,” the doctor had explained. “But he will never live a day unaffected, and may have acute episodes if triggered. He will likely need a caretaker for the rest of his life.”

And so his fate was set; Dick was given his first injection of interferon beta 1b and allowed to go back home with a new routine laid out for him. The drugs would suppress his immune system and prevent it from continuing to eat away at the protective coverings of his nerve cells. There were side effects, of course: the worst of which being that with his immune system weakened and white blood cell count lowered, he was even more susceptible to illness than he had been before. He took an injection every other day and settled into his new life, and the routine never changed, even as he grew taller, filled out, made it through school and graduated into the working world.

♠

Dick parks his battered Ford in the front lot of old Harold Sawyer’s convenience store and shuts the engine off. He sits in the stillness for a moment, recalling how hard he’d had to fight to get his driver’s license because of his condition. Dick likes the independence of driving, but still exercises caution - sometimes he has his mother or a friend drive.

He climbs out of the car, frowning as he feels the outside heat crowding in all around him. The air-conditioned store is a welcome relief, and Dick quickly busies himself with opening up the shop. He hears the stairs creak and turns to see Mr. Sawyer trudging down slowly.

“Good morning, Mr. Sawyer.” Dick moves to help him, and the man accepts graciously, leveraging himself against the young man.

“Thanks, Dick. Seems like it’s getting harder to move around every day.” The old man smiles wistfully as they reach the bottom step. “You’re lucky you’ve got your youth.”

“Oh, I have some idea of how you feel,” Dick remarks mildly. “Maybe you should look at finding a new place. You could rent out the upstairs to somebody.” Mr. Sawyer purses his lips thoughtfully, easing off of Dick’s shoulder now that he’s on steady legs.

“It’d be more efficient for you, if you were to live here.”

Dick pauses, considering. “I’d like the independence,” he only half-agrees. “I don’t know, though...I’ve not left home before. I have personal care providers, but...”

“Well, just think about it, then. I’m sure you’ll come to the right decision, Dick.” He smiles brightly at the redhead. Dick responds in kind, a quality of uncertainty in the twitch of his lips.

Later, when they take their lunch break, Mr. Sawyer gives him free reign in his tiny kitchen. Dick makes a pot of greek pasta with tomatoes and white beans, which he shares with his boss. The two have carried out this routine since Dick was old enough to work, and it comes as easy as breathing.

The rest of the day passes smoothly, and Dick is soon bidding Mr. Sawyer farewell - at least for the night. He drives home, where he starts on dinner right away. Dick cooks glazed salmon filets with a side of cranberry wild rice and sweet peas. As planned, it’s ready to serve by the time his parents come back inside. Dinner is a quiet affair - Edith and Richard quietly discuss plans for the farm, and Dick is questioned about his work with little to give in response.

He has an hour to himself before his visiting nurse, Carwood Lipton, arrives. Lip is punctual and polite as always, shaking his hand in the doorway before entering. He sets his equipment down on the kitchen table and gestures for Dick to sit down.

“How’s it going, Dick? Any issues today?”

“Nothing severe,” Dick answers. “The usual aches and pains, and the heat outside was troubling. But it’s been a good day.”

Lip nods. “And yesterday?” He takes Dick’s arm, securing a blood pressure cuff around his bicep.

“Fine, mostly. Had a headache for a while before PT with Doc Roe. Working out helped.”

“Rough day at work, I take it?”

“Something like that.” Dick smirks, impressed - he’s only known Lip for three years, but the man is almost as familiar with Dick as his own mother is. Lip breezes through the check-up and refills Dick’s prescription, all within the hour. They bid one another farewell, then Dick goes through his nighttime stretches before settling in bed with a book.

Just like any other day.


	2. Lancaster, Pennsylvania

Lewis Nixon rests his cheek against a curled fist and sighs. He stares listlessly out the car window, tuning out his father’s voice and watching the foreign Pennsylvania landscape roll past. It’s beautiful - open and fresh and so _green_ in the afternoon sun, and Lew knows he’d enjoy it, if it were any other time. But as it is, he can’t shake the malaise that’s settled over him like a grey blanket.

Stanhope Nixon seems to notice his son’s disquiet for the first time, and claps a reassuring hand over his shoulder. Lew shrugs the gesture off irritably.

“I’m fine,” he grouses.

“Now, Lewis, this is exactly why I brought you with me. Get your mind off of Kathy for a while. I needed the same thing after your mother left me.”

“Yeah, but  _ you _ went on a two-month bender. You didn’t get dragged to some Quaker village in Pennsylvania to look at the proposed location for another goddamn nuclear plant.”

Stanhope has the grace to fall silent. Lew counts it as a win and turns to the window again. He watches as the road flows into a small city- presumably named Lancaster, judging by the names of small businesses flanking the street. The buildings are dated, some in disrepair with peeling paint and rotting wood, others obviously refurbished with the original style kept in mind. Many are squat, three-to-four story red brick and mortar.

In the distance, Lew can see the farms dotting the countryside; the long worn roads and tall green trees snaking all around. He’s reminded of the paintings his mother liked to hang in the sitting room; strokes of rich green, red, and yellow oil paints depicting the American Dream, lower and middle class Americans who’ve had to work for everything they’ve got. So far removed from Lew’s reality that he’d always stared at the pictures and wondered how he might be different if he’d been born into that world.

Sometimes Lew hates who he is. He knows it’s the outcome of his upper-class upbringing, that there isn’t all that much he can do to change the core of his personality. But, as his father parks their expensive black Cadillac in the drop-off lane of Lancaster’s Best Western Premier Eden Resort, he wishes he could be someone else.

“Righty-ho,” Stanhope slaps him on the back. “Here we are, son.”

Lewis won’t say he isn’t impressed. The building is huge, and the front entrance alone makes quite a statement. The long overhang is built to look grandiose and intimidating, brightly lit even in the early noon with a curved skyroof and two thick columns at the front. A neat garden flanks its right, and on the left, Lew can see where the lobby flows into the suites. He’s already aware of what this hotel has to offer, and it’s as he’d always said, bitterly:  _ ‘Nothing but the best for Mrs. Nixon's baby boy.’ _

Inside is equally impressive. He stands behind his father as he checks in and gets their keycards; watches as the bellhops rush out to grab their suitcases and the valet takes their car away to park it elsewhere. He can see some of the services offered, including the two restaurants and cocktail lounge, and spots the signs directing visitors to the fitness center, basketball court, putting green, meeting rooms, and the two pools.

His father follows the bellhops towards their adjacent suites, and Lew trails behind, momentarily complacent. He’s happy to find that they’re only on the second floor, and ducks into his own room. He tips the bellhop and closes the door with a sigh of relief, collapsing onto the king-sized bed. After being trapped in the car with his father for nearly three hours and some for their breakfast stop, his skull is throbbing, his ears ringing faintly.

Lew digs his flask out of his coat pocket and swallows the last dregs of his beloved Vat 69. He kicks his shoes off and strips down to his underclothes, flips the TV on, and falls asleep.

♠

Lew’s stomach growling wakes him up a while later. Groaning, he forces himself to wake up, and checks the bedside clock.  _ 1:45 _ . He’d been out for two hours. He crawls out of bed and runs a shower, standing in the hot spray, groggy, until it begins to wake him up. Lew goes through the ritual: he brushes his teeth, towels off, drags jeans and a silk shirt out of his suitcase and tugs them on somewhat reluctantly, only half-ready to face the day.

By some stroke of luck, he manages to avoid drawing his father’s attention as he walks past the windows overlooking the putting green, and carries on towards the cocktail lounge undisturbed. He buys a snack platter of shrimp and is disappointed to find that they’re out of Vat. Duly prepared, Lew grabs a map and strides out of the hotel to explore Lancaster.

Lewis supposes he would be the map guy, were he to serve in the forces. He’s always had an interest in geography, and likes to soak in as much information as he can about his surroundings when he travels. Being a passionate sailor and traveler, navigation is a big part of his life. He’s pleased to see that the little paper map is thorough, jam-packed with Lancaster’s tourist hotspots and diamonds in the rough.

He wanders through the streets and various shops that catch his eye for a good half hour before hunger makes itself known once more. He decides to take a chance and heads for the nearest place that happens to say “cafe.” Lewis winds up in Sawyer’s Convenience Store & Cafe.

He’s surprised to see how neat the inside of the little shop is - the building’s ancient-looking exterior, complete with peeling yellow siding and white trim, had put him off. Inside, however, the walls bear a fresh coat of mint green paint, and the checkered linoleum floor beneath his feet is clean and waxed. Rows of white wooden shelves display an assortment of food and supplies, and there are four square tables tucked into a corner, each with two wooden chairs and a picnic cloth. It’s all very nostalgic, like something out of the ‘50s.

He approaches the vacant cashier’s desk and rings the bell he finds there. Lew scans the menu that’s taped down to the table until a young man comes out from where Lew presumes the kitchen is, dressed in a red flannel shirt and white apron. Lew’s gaze traces over the cashier, appraising. His gaze catches on the man’s name tag.  _ Richard. _

Richard is smiling politely at him. “Hi. How may I help you?

“I was hoping for a bacon sandwich, actually. But it’s not-”

“Sure thing,” Richard interrupts. “Don’t worry about the menu.” He’s already scribbling down Lew’s order on a notepad. Lew is a little overwhelmed by the redhead’s energy, and falls silent for a beat. Richard’s expectant gaze draws him back to attention.

“Uh, right. I’ll have the cream of potato soup with that. And Vat 69, if you’ve got any.”

Richard nods. “I’ll be right with you. Feel free to look around - just put anything you wanna buy up here and I’ll ring it up before you go.” Lew watches him dart back into the kitchen. He takes a seat at one of the tables, feeling very out of his element. Lew draws his arms in around himself in an effort to ward off the chill; the air conditioning is growling away somewhat excessively.

After a while, Richard returns with food in tow, and sets it down for Lew with a warm smile. Lew has figured out that this guy smiles a lot. He hasn’t seen a  _ big _ smile, or even a grin - Richard’s smiles come in the twitch of his lips and the crinkle at the corners of his eyes. It’s charming.

“Do you want the TV on? It’s been a slow day, so I had it off.”

“No thanks.” Lew manages to smile up at Richard, who gestures towards the other seat, asking permission. “Go ahead, Richard.” He sits down. Lew inspects his soup curiously. It’s cream of potato, like he expected, but there is creamed corn and pasta shells mixed in. Lew casts Richard an inquisitive glance.

“It’s my Grandma’s recipe. And just call me Dick.”

“Looks lovely. I’m Lewis. Some people call me Lew.” He tries a spoonful of the soup, finds he likes it. Inspects the blue ceramic plate and bowl and mason jar mug curiously, wonders just how old-fashioned this joint is. Dick speaks up.

“So, what brings you to Lancaster City?”

“Funny thing. Dad was looking for the Hershey factory. We wound up here.”

“Really?” Dick has a wide-eyed innocence about him. Lew likes it.

“Nah. He dragged me out here to look at where the new nuclear plant will be. You heard of Nixon Nuclear Corporation?”

“Of course,” Dick scoffs. “I’m assuming your father is Stanhope Nixon?”

“Boy, you did your research.”

“I like to be informed. Besides, I haven’t got much else to do,” Dick adds.. Lew doesn’t chase that remark, opting to tuck into his meal instead. He feels Dick’s intense, blue-eyed gaze on him, but finds he doesn’t mind at all. Dick doesn’t  _ want _ anything from him, and it’s a welcome relief.

They end up talking nearly three hours away, interrupted only by the occasional customer. Lew only realizes how late it is when Dick gets up again to start closing the shop. He glances towards the window, and is surprised to see the sun just beginning to set.

“I’ve got to go home and cook dinner,” Dick says. “Would you like a ride back to the hotel?”

“Sure. Don’t want to risk getting lost once it’s dark out.”

Lew isn’t very surprised when they approach what is possibly the oldest Ford Taurus he’s ever seen. It’s a stick shift, as he discovers upon climbing in, which is hardly surprising. But he wonders how it handles. Dick looks amused, his lips quirked in an odd little smirk.

“It was Dad’s car until I got my license.”

“I can tell.”

Dick huffs, smiling. He starts up the engine. “I’ve never actually been to any of the hotels here in the city, so I might need directions.”

“Never fear. The map guy is here.” Nix digs the crumpled tourist map out of his pocket. “Tah-dah.”

He decides he doesn’t like Dick’s driving. As laid back as the guy is, he’d figured that, as a driver, Dick would be smooth or overly cautious. So it comes as a bit of a shock when Dick pushes 65 in a 45 zone, grinning from ear to ear with the windows rolled down.

“I’m driving next time,” Lew declares once he’s safely exited the vehicle. Dick laughs.

“There’s a next time, huh?”

“Well. Only if you want to. I figured it’d be nice to get the grand tour from someone who actually lives here.”

“I’m off work tomorrow,” Dick offers. “Here, I’ll give you my cellphone number. Ring me up anytime before 2:30, I’m busy then.”

“Sweet, thanks.” Dick recalls the digits and Lew enters the number in his phone, then steps back with an awkward half-smile. Dick waves and backs out, and Lew’s gaze tracks his car until the taillights disappear from sight.


	3. A Brief Excursion

Dick wakes up with the sun. Saturday. Another day, another routine. He crawls out of bed, gets dressed in his swim trunks and shirt, grabs a towel, and makes a cup of coffee before he’s on his way to the gym once again. There’s a dull ache in his arms and legs from his physical therapy the night before; Doc Roe had pushed him to go at it a little bit longer than usual before working his magic, massaging the tension out of Dick’s muscles with his strong, calloused fingers.

The sky is warm with the colors of dawn, but the air is chilly and damp. Dick shivers and rushes on ahead, eager to reach the gym and its heated pool. He thinks about Lew, reflecting on their conversation. He’d discovered that Lew was one of the few people he’d really clicked with; aside from DeEtta and Harry, Dick has never had many people he’d call friends.

He realizes he’d never told Lew of his condition. One more thing to do today.

♠

Dick spends most of his morning cleaning the house. His parents are out on the farm and he’s got nothing better to do, so he starts in the kitchen and ends up tidying every room in the house. It was more than Dick had planned to do, and left him more tired than he’d anticipated. He knew his mother would be absolutely fretting over him if she were here.

At 9:56, his cellphone rings, which is rare enough that he figures out who it is immediately. He answers the call cheerfully. “Hey, Lew.”

“Hi.” Lew’s voice sounds rough, groggy. “How long’ve  _ you  _ been awake? Jeez.”

Dick chuckles. “5:20. I take it you’re still in bed?”

“Yeah. Like a normal person, thank you.” A pause. “ So, still up for the grand tour?”

“Of course. I figured we could meet up at Sawyer’s, walk from there.”

“Sounds great. Just gimme ten to shower and get dressed. Hopefully I can avoid running into Dad on the way out. See you then.”

“Good luck.”

Lew chuckles and ends the call. Dick slips his phone into his the pocket of his cargo shorts, puts on his sneakers, grabs his keys, and steps outside. Dutifully waving to his parents as he leaves, Dick drives back to Mr. Sawyer’s shop with a renewed sense of buoyancy. He arrives to find Lew leaning casually against the doorjamb, cigarette dangling from his lips, his raven hair artfully mussed. His deep chocolate eyes train on Dick as he climbs out of the car.

“You awake yet?” Dick approaches Lew, smirking.

“Awake?” Lew scoffs. “Time to go to bed.” He puts out his cigarette and tosses it in a trashcan. Makes a grand gesture for Dick to lead the way.

As they walk, they learn all about one another, things that hadn’t come up during their first conversation at Sawyer’s. Lew learns that Dick has known how to drive since he was seven, and that he’d first learned on his father’s big red tractor. He learns that Dick has never left Pennsylvania; that he took online college courses and has worked at Sawyer’s since his junior year in high school. Dick learns that Lew was married, and has a daughter he hasn’t seen in a month. Lew describes his years spent living in Europe,the luxury homes in France and Italy and Germany, where his mother and father typically left him to his own devices with a maid who didn’t speak a word of English. Dick is fascinated and somewhat envious.

“We’ll go to Chicago,” Lew promises. “I’ll take you there.”

Dick guides Lew through all of the things he hadn’t seen the day before: they walk past the Clipper Magazine Stadium, visit the Landis Valley Museum, which showcases Pennsylvania's German heritage from 1740 through 1940, then the Demuth Museum (at Lew’s request - as it happens, he has a passion for fine arts as well), and together they make a few passes through the Central Market, where they both taste new foods and pick up interesting Amish trinkets. Lew learns of other, more upscale places he might be interested in visiting on his own time, including The Chameleon Club, Longwood Gardens, and Fulton Opera House.

At the end of it all, they stop at a Hershey ice cream shop and Dick buys a huge vanilla sundae. Lew laughs at his enthusiasm but tucks into a banana split with equal childlike fervor. Dick recalls childhood trips to the Hersheypark and Dutch Wonderland and admits one of his childhood heroes was Milton Hershey. Lew doesn’t offer much about his own youth, admitting that it was pretty depressing.

Once they’ve finished their ice cream, Dick sees that it’s about time for him to head home and cook lunch.

“You should come with,” he says. “Meet my parents. They’d love to meet you, I’m sure. And I can show you the farm, and our cow Daisy.”

“I don’t understand why people name their cows Daisy.”

Dick shrugs. “I didn’t pick it.”

“I guess I haven’t got anything better to do,” Lew remarks. “You sure you’re alright with it? We’ve only just met yesterday.” He pauses, looking contemplative.  _ Feels like longer. Like we’ve known each other our whole lives.  _ Dick is thinking the same thing.

“I’m sure.”

♠

Somehow, Dick had completely forgotten to tell Lew about his MS. He realizes that this day- it’s perhaps the first time in his life that he hasn’t felt defined by it, hemmed in by the routine and the medication. He’d never forgotten it before, because he’d accepted that it defined who he was. But now, he notices, he feels free. Independent. Not disabled or terminally ill, like the doctors had always said.

He feels  _ human. _

It’s suddenly so much more difficult to tell Lew. He’d thought to drop it in casually, like he’d always done before, when someone who hasn’t lived in Lancaster all their life knew him intimately enough for it to become important. But now, inexplicably, Dick is afraid of what Lew will think of him when he knows. When he knows that Dick will never be cured, will never know a day without some minor discomfort or pain, that he’ll never have enough energy to do all of the things he wants to do. That when things get bad enough, he can’t even walk under his own power.

Sitting at the table, surrounded by his family and newest friend, Dick suddenly feels so much more alone than he ever has before. All he can see is the wheelchair he knows is folded up in the hallway closet, a physical barrier between himself and complete freedom, his afflicted body a burden.

His mother notices his disquiet, casts him a knowing glance and a reassuring smile. He knows she can see the turmoil in his blue eyes, that the tremor in his hands hadn’t gone unnoticed before he’d dropped them into his lap. Dick doesn’t feel comforted by this knowledge. It makes him angry. Angry, because he knows, even as he’s thinking and feeling the things he is, that it’s just his condition talking. Mood swings. Cognitive disabilities. Depression. It’s all there on his medical papers, printed in thick black letters, accusing with the last. Everything he thinks or feels or does chalks up to a symptom or a side effect.

Lew’s eyes meet his, quietly concerned. He’s noticed the shift in mood, like a black storm cloud rolling over their table. Dick’s parents clear the plates and silverware. His mother gifts him with a kiss on the forehead, his father with a pat on the shoulder. They both shake Lew’s hand and bid him good afternoon before leaving. As soon as they’re out of earshot, Lew speaks up.

“You alright?” He asks.

“No,” Dick sighs. “There’s...something I have to tell you.”

Lew looks concerned. “So say it. I doubt it’ll make me think any less of you.”

Dick falls silent. Lew recognizes it for what it is; a non-verbal affirmation of what he’d just said:  _ I’m scared that it will.  _ Frowning, he stands up and moves to sit in the chair next to Dick. He rests a hand on the redhead’s knee.

“Don’t be afraid,” he urges softly. “Just come out with it.”

“I’m sick,” Dick blurts out. “I’ve always been. It’s- there’s no cure.” He searches Lew’s dark eyes, quietly fearful. Terrified of rejection, of distance. It’s happened before, countless times. People were happy to be his friend until they learned of his MS. Then they pitied him or put distance between them so as not to become liable for anything that might happen. Dick is a victim. He will always be a victim.

Lew is silent, but Dick can’t read his expression. He keeps talking.

“It started when I was six. I’d get tired, stressed out, overheated. Emotional. I collapsed in gym class when I was seven.” Dick pauses. “I have multiple sclerosis, Lew.”

Lew’s eyes widen. He recognizes it, then. Knows what it is, maybe some of what happens. Dick goes on. “I’ve never left home because I can’t even walk sometimes. And I never know when it will hit. There are triggers, but sometimes it’ll just...happen.”

“You...were afraid I’d think less of you for this?” Lew questions softly.

Dick nods, hesitant. “It’s happened before. You’re the first friend I’ve made since high school.”

“Dick, I could never. This makes me think even better of you. The strength it must’ve taken to get to where you are in your life with what you have...you’re amazing, Dick. I’ve met a few people with MS and they’re nowhere as independent as you. Hell, none of them could  _ drive.  _ And there you were, 16 years old, driving tractors and working full-time an hour away from home, even with your condition.”

Dick smiles uncertainly. “You really think so?”

“Of course. C’mere,” he draws Dick in for an affectionate hug. “Don’t get so worked up over it next time, alright? You’re amazing and strong and just a great guy all around. I don’t deserve you.”

“Lew,” Dick chastises. “You know that’s not true.”

Lew shrugs. “Debatable. Anyway, your parents seem nice.”

“They are.”

Lew can sense that Dick is still upset. “How about you show me around? You said you wanted me to meet your cow.” He smiles reassuringly at the redhead, who seems to cheer up considerably at the suggestion.

“Okay,” Dick stands up. “We’ll go to the barn.” He leads the way to the big red-and-white barn. Lew wonders aloud why farmers always seem to paint their barns red. Dick shrugs and says it’s an aesthetic thing that became tradition. He shows Lew the chicken coop and introduces him to Daisy, who takes a liking to him and licks his hand. Lew is suitably disgusted. Dick think’s it funny.

“We have more cows outside. But Daisy is special,” Dick explains. “She provides the milk just for us.”

“I take it you make cream and butter the old-fashioned way.”

Dick nods. “It tastes better, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. I noticed at lunch. Your cooking is fantastic, by the way.”

Dick positively beams at the compliment. He’d never said so directly, but Lew had caught on quickly enough: cooking is Dick’s pride and joy. It’s one of the few things he doesn’t need an abundance of energy to do well.

“We have two one-acre fields that we rotate crops on. The first is for sweet corn and soybeans, and the second is for wheat and barley. Right now we’ve got the soybeans and wheat going. You’ll have to come by sometime when we pick the corn, it’s  _ so _ good.”

“I can imagine.” Lew smiles. He take in a deep breath, looking around. “It’s nice out here. Simple, quiet. Peaceful.”

“Nothing like New York, I’m sure.”

“Definitely not.”

Dick checks his watch on a whim, and frowns. “I have to go soon.” At Lew’s inquisitive glance, he adds: “Therapy. Appointment’s at 3:00.”

“Ooh, fun. I guess you want to get going now, huh?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

♠

Dick drops Lew off at the hotel and departs with the promise to meet up again soon. He makes the half-hour drive up to his therapist’s office in relative silence. The office is just his therapist, Buck Compton’s house; a quaint, cozy brown building with white trim and a small flower garden in the front yard. Dick parks next to a little red car, which he knows belongs to Buck’s wife, a tiny and curvaceous blonde woman named Donna. 

Donna greets him at the door. “Hello, Dick,” she embraces him with a grin. “It’s been a while. How are DeEtta and Harry?”

“Oh, same as always. DeEtta’s on vacation in California and Harry was on a bender, last I heard from him.” He steps into the house, closing the door behind him.

Donna laughs. “And what about you? Still working full-time?”

“Of course. Nothing’s really changed. Though...I have met someone.”

“Dick,” she gasps. “You’ve got to tell me all about this.”

Dick starts to talk just as Buck walks in, cutting him off. Donna pouts and stalks off, making Dick promise to tell her all about his love life after his appointment. Buck clasps a hand on his shoulder and they share a chuckle over Donna’s feisty personality before heading into Buck’s office. Buck takes a set behind his desk, and Dick sinks into the comfy leather settee across from him.

“So, Dick. I heard you’ve met someone.”


	4. The Things You Said

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some internalized homophobia at the end. Just a heads up.

Mr. Sawyer greets Dick as he walks into the store on Monday morning. He introduces him to their newest hire, a round-faced brunette girl with a shy smile, before leaving to run some errands. Dick is left alone in the shop with the girl.

“Hi, I’m Renée.” She offers her hand, and Dick accepts the gesture with a friendly smile.

“I’m Dick. I’ll show you around.”

Renée takes a shine to the quaint little shop, and within the hour, Dick is comfortable leaving her to man the counter while he works to tidy the kitchen. There are few customers. Lew doesn’t show up. Dick imagines his father has finally pinned him down, but still finds himself glancing out the window occasionally.

He takes time to talk with Renée over a lunch of spaghetti and breadsticks. Dick finds that they share a mutual friend; Renée had met Dick’s physical therapist, Gene Roe, during his last year of med school in Philadelphia.

“We’ve been dating for a month,” Renée says, blushing. “He’s really sweet.”

“Yes, he certainly is.” Dick smiles, recalling how Gene had seemed to lighten up around that time, becoming more friendly and open. Dick had always nurtured a tiny crush on the Doc, and it was nice to see him find happiness.

At the end of their shift, Dick insists Renée leave first, and he cleans and locks up, bidding farewell to Mr. Sawyer. He enjoys a moment of peace and quiet as he drives home, admiring the beginning sunset. A pleasant surprise greets him at the farm - when he pulls up in the driveway, Dick’s little sister Ann comes charging out of the house, her blue dress trailing wildly behind her in the wind. She crashes into him the moment he steps out of the car, wrapping her skinny arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Dick, it’s so good to see you!” Her cheek presses into Dick’s shoulder as he dutifully returns the gesture.

“I’m glad you’re back. When did you get here? I thought you still had classes.”

Ann pulls back, beaming up at her brother. “Oh, just this morning. I wanted to surprise you. I’m going to  _ Paris _ , Dick, can you believe it?!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, It’s for my French class. I leave in three days.”

“Wow. That’s great, Ann.” Dick smiles. “My friend Lew lived in France for a few years when he was young. Maybe you two could talk about it, I’m sure you’d like him.”

“Lew? That’s the new guy, right? Mom was talking about him over the phone.”

“Yep. What’d she say about him?”

Ann grins mischievously. “Oh, you know. This and that.”

Dick smirks knowingly. “Let’s go inside. I need a shower before I make dinner.”

♠

Later that afternoon, Dick finds time to give Lew a call.

“Hey, Dick,” Lew greets immediately. “I was just about to call you.”

Dick chuckles. “Great minds think alike. How are you? You didn’t stop by today, I was worried.”

“Yeah, Dad finally caught me on my way out and dragged me down to look over the land with him. Boring as hell, but I survived.”

“Oh? How was that?”

“Eh. Nothing spectacular. It’s certainly big enough for the plant, and there’s a good perimeter of forest all around.”

“That’s good,” Dick replies, not sure what else to say. It isn’t the same, talking to Lew over the phone. He listens to his friend’s breathing, the faint sounds of a television in the background.

“So,” Lew begins, “anything interesting happen to you today?”

“Well, my sister came back from school today. She’s going to Paris in a few days. And Sawyer was looking to hire someone to help out at the store a week back. Ended up giving the job to my physical therapist’s girlfriend. Today was her first day.”

“I bet she’s gonna  _ love _ you.”

Dick grins. “I’m not that bad.”

“Mhm, sure. You seem like the bossy type to me.”

“Not as bossy as Doc Roe,” Dick demurs. “He’s been killing me. I’m still sore from last time.”

Lew bursts into laughter, and Dick can’t help the way his cheeks color in embarrassment when he realizes. “I didn’t mean it  _ that _ way, Lew.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

Dick scoffs, struggling to hide a smile despite the fact that Lew can’t see him. He kicks at the floor, waiting patiently as Lew catches his breath again, no doubt wiping tears of mirth from his cheeks. Dick can practically see it.

“That’s-” Lew gasps, “-the best goddamned thing I’ve heard all day.”

“I’m sure it was,”

There’s a moment of silence between them before Lew speaks up again. “I hate to ruin the mood, but I figured I oughta tell you, Dad plans on leaving for home in two days.”

“Oh,” Dick exhales, frowning. “I’d hoped you’d be staying for longer.”

“Me too. Honestly, I’m not keen on going back to New Jersey so soon.”

“Yeah,” Dick breathes. “Think you could drop by again sometime?”

“Of course. Gotta restock on Vat and cigs,” Lew chuckles. “Not to mention, a little bird told me that Dick Winters makes the best goddamn pizzas in all of Pennsylvania.”

“Is that so?”

“Sure is. Thought maybe she was exaggerating, but it turns out you’re on Google Maps with a five-star review titled just that.”

“I’m honored,” Dick grins, picking at the sofa cover absently. “I’ve got to let you go, Lew. Doc will be over soon.”

“Ooh, good luck. Make sure you can still walk tomorrow, yeah?” Dick can hear the grin in Lew’s voice.

“Yeah,” he replies, “I’ll tell him to take it easy on me for you. I’m sure he’ll like that. See you later, Lew.”

“Right. Give your sister my congrats, by the way. Good night.”

Dick hangs up after Lew ends the call, a fond smile lingering on his face. Ann drops down onto the couch beside him, a popsicle in hand. Dick turns to look at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t listening,” she teases. “So, what happens next?”

“PT,” Dick replies. “Same as always. You don’t have to stick around, you know. You can take my car, go see your friends.”

“Maybe in a little while. You seem pretty enamored with him.”

“Who, Lew?”

“Yeah. Or Doc Roe. Or  _ both  _ of them _ , _ actually.”

“They’re good people,” Dick answers honestly. He can feel his ears turning pink and curses his pale complexion. So maybe he did have a crush on Gene. So what? He watches Ann critically as she licks at her popsicle, nonchalant. She catches him watching and sighs dramatically.

“Jeez, Dick. I’m not sayin’ anything, don’t get so defensive. It just...seems like you’ve needed someone new in your life, and this Lewis guy sounds pretty decent. That’s all. Maybe he’ll help you find someone. I mean, if you’re looking for a relationship.”

Dick opens his mouth to reply, but is cut off by a knock on the door. He rolls his eyes and gets up to let Gene in. 

“Hey, Dick,” he greets in his low Louisiana drawl. He’s carrying two duffel bags, which Dick knows are full of lightweight dumbbells. Dick manages a half-smile and moves over to let him inside. When he walks back into the living room, Ann is gone and Gene has already put out most of the equipment.

“We’ll go easy today,” Gene says, gesturing towards the lightest set. Dick smiles, recalling his and Lew’s earlier conversation, and takes a seat on the tan-carpeted floor. Once Dick is comfortable with the swing of the workout, he makes small talk.

“I met Renée today.”

“That’s right, she works with you now. How’d her first day go? I haven’t had a chance to see her yet.”

“Pretty good. She worked the counter like a pro. Tomorrow I’ll show her around the kitchen. Sawyer just about had a coronary last time I relapsed and couldn’t be there to cook.”

“I remember. Renée’s a decent cook, unlike the last guy.”

“At least it wasn’t Harry,” Dick chuckles. “He can’t cook to save his life.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Harry’s been back in town for a couple days. He didn’t call because he’s still...recuperating. But he’s gonna want ‘t see you.”

Dick laughs. “Anyone else would be dead, with how much he drinks and picks fights. Heck, he’s gonna love Lew.”

“They’ll be drinking buddies,” Gene remarks. “Oh no.”

♠

Renée’s second day goes smoothly as well. Dick is glad to discover that the day goes by quickly. It seems like hardly an hour passes before he’s back home and cooking dinner. Lip comes over early at Dick’s request and breezes through their appointment before asking why Dick wanted to see him so early.

“You said you’d like to meet Lew, last time we did this. Well, he dropped by while I was at work and invited me over to the hotel pool with him, since he’s leaving tomorrow afternoon. You’re welcome to come along, Lip. Harry might show up, too.”

“Alright,” Lip smiles. “I don’t have any other patients today. I’ll run home and grab my swimsuit. What’s the address?”

Dick relays the information to Lip and sees him out. He stops at Ann’s room on his way to his own, knocking gently on the doorjamb to capture her attention.

“I’m going to the pool with friends,” Dick explains. “You can come if you want.”

Ann smiles. “Thanks, but I can’t. I have to pack. Have fun.”

“Okay.” Dick grabs his stuff from his room and heads out. The long drive to the hotel is familiar by now, but the sight of the building lit up in the dark is new and impressive. Lew meets him in the lobby, his eyes bright with humor. He looks better at this late hour, awake and animated; in the mornings he’d always looked so washed-out and pale.

“You look like a tourist, gawking like that.”

“I’ve never been inside,” Dick defends. “It’s beautiful.”

“The cost of one night is probably more than your parents’ mortgage,” Lew jokes.

“Lip’s coming,” Dick deflects. “And Harry. You’ll like Harry.”

“Now I’m worried.” He smirks. Dick rolls his eyes. “Okay. Let’s check out the pool.”

Lew swipes his room key and admits them into the pool. It’s one of the most extraordinary things Dick has seen in Lancaster - the exterior walls of the hotel wrap around the room, the doors and patios of some of the rooms visible all around them, yet the rounded glass roof extends overhead, enclosing the area. There’s a huge polygonal pool wrapped around a trapezoid-shaped hot tub, and wrought iron deck tables and chairs rest in an alcove beside the restrooms. A built-in bench runs along the wall of the entire pool, and a ladder on the deep end. There’s nobody else in the room with them.

“Wow,” Dick breathes. “This is so much better than the pool at my gym.”

“Understatement of the year,” Lew snarks. “Go ahead and get changed, I’ll wait in the lobby for the other guys. Pretty sure they’ll know me when they see me.”

“Or vice-versa,” Dick agrees. He ducks into the men’s room and changes into his swim trunks, stuffing his clothes into the drawstring gym bag he’d brought with.. When he comes out, Lew is already gone. Dick claims a deck chair, throwing his towel over the back and the bag on the table next to it. He gravitates towards the hot tub.

Dick’s MS sees to it that he overheats quicker than most, so he only stays in the tub for a few minutes before moving to the big pool.

Harry arrives first, Lew letting him in with a big grin already on his face. Harry’s enthusiasm is like that, contagious. He yells a greeting and throws his T-shirt at Dick’s head. Dick shakes it off, letting it fall in the water.

“Oops,” he says with false apology. “Sorry, Harry.”

“Aw jeez, Dick, that was my only shirt. Now I’m gonna have to parade through the lobby half-naked.” Harry sits down on the rim of the pool, and Dick floats up to him.

“They have swimsuit and towel dryers in the bathroom, Harry.”

“Nice. So Dick, I’m pretty sure Lew is probably the greatest guy alive. How’d you meet him? He sounds like he’s from New York.”

“He came into the store a few days ago. His father is Stanhope Nixon.”

Harry whistles. “That’s a big name. Lemme guess, they’re here for a new nuke plant?”

“Yeah, they’re looking at putting it out by the farms, closer to Hershey.”

“That’s cool, as long as it doesn’t blow up,” Harry grins toothily. “Shit, Dick, I gotta tell you about Kitty. I met her when I was visiting the guys back in Luzerne County. I think I’m going to marry her.”

“Whoa, when was this?” Dick chuckles. “You can’t marry a girl you just met, Harry.”

“Nah, she’s the one. I’m sure of it.”

“I guess I’ll take your word for it.” Dick looks up to see Lip and Lew coming in, talking animatedly. He feels a tiny pang of jealousy. Lew’s so good at talking to people. Dick usually doesn’t have the words to articulate himself, and tends to be left out of conversations. He shakes the feeling off, annoyed.  _ Not now _ , he tells himself.

Harry leaps to his feet to give Lew a bone-crushing hug. “My man!” He crows. “Party can’t start without you.”

“Harry, I just met you ten minutes ago,” Lew laughs. He tugs his shirt off and tosses it dramatically onto a deck chair, a mischievous grin splitting across his face. Harry and Lip watch as Lew stalks up to the edge of the pool.   
  
"Oh no," is all Dick can get out before Lew jumps in, splashing enormously. He surfaces with the same smile, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes as Harry cheers drunkenly and, following Lew’s example, jumps in with a cry of "CANONBALL!"   
  
"You aren't supposed to dive," Dick chastises.   
  
"Oh well," Lew smirks. "What're you gonna do about it, hmm?" He swims up alongside Dick, settling onto the bench next to him. Dick turns to look at Lew, intending to fire back with some sarcastic comment, but finds himself suddenly speechless.   
  
_"_ _ You're beautiful," _ he wants to say, looking at the mirth in Lew's dark eyes, the happy curl of his soft red lips. Dick tears his gaze away, suddenly uncomfortable. Perceptive as he is, Lew notices.   
  
"Cat got your tongue?" He teases.   
  
"I-I've got to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back." Dick hurries out of the pool towards the restroom. He closes the door behind him with a hard exhale, leaning back against it. Dick can feel his cheeks burning, heart pounding in his chest.   
  
_ It's not right _ , he thinks.  _ Lew isn't like that. He was married to a woman. We're just friends. _ Dick's chest feels tight; his hands tremble at his sides. In that moment he'd noticed how attractive Lew is, he'd almost been able to imagine a future with him - flaws and all, even with the smoking and the drinking (he makes up for it with intelligence and bravery, Dick thinks) - but surely he'd be rejected. He thinks about what Ann said.  _ Maybe he’ll help you find someone. I mean, if you’re looking for a relationship. _

What would Lew say? _   
_   
_ "I can't take care of you all the time, Dick. It's too much." _ _   
_ _   
_ Lew couldn't love a cripple. _   
_ _   
_ _ "I'm sorry, man, I don't swing that way." _ _   
_ _   
_ Much less a queer one. _   
_   
"Dick?" He flinches as Lip knocks on the door. "Everything alright in there?"   
  
"Yeah," he calls out immediately, "I'm okay. I'll be out in a sec." Dick flushes the toilet for show, goes to the sink and runs the tap needlessly. He looks at himself in the mirror, wipes away a stray tear. Tries on his best smile.   
_   
_ _ " _ _ You should smile more. You're always so serious." _ _   
_ _   
_ _ "C'mon, Dick, smile like you mean it!" _ _   
_ _   
_ _ " _ _ Does it really hurt that bad?" _ _   
_ __   
Dick goes back out to the pool.


End file.
